“You spoke to Selah at the party,” I say, and it all makes sense. How many conversations have Emma and Rachel had in front of the woman, not suspecting what she might do with the information? Broken hearts and dreams can turn to rage and cruelty so easily. To think I’d almost felt sorry for the bitch.
Catherine continues on, “It’s amusing when you think about it. He detested Selah for wanting his wealth and power. Yet he used the same damn lures to draw you in, to attach you as securely as he could to him and this place. A job to keep you busy and make you feel important. A charity foundation to ingratiate you into his social circle. All of the clothes and jewelry and the car to make you hunger for more and more.”
“That’s not true. The clothes were from Rachel. And the jewelry. They were her doing.”
“Where do you think the money came from? The authority to buy it all? From me? From Ethan?” She scoffs. “Don’t be a child.”
I can only stare.
“Not that I imagine it took much to reel you in. He had you hooked the moment you set foot onto the private jet.”
It doesn’t make sense. Except it does. Beck’s been lying about so much. So many big and little things both.
“And Beck never had any interest in establishing a charity foundation until you came along. I love my grandson, but he’s always been a soft touch.” She pauses for effect. “Writing checks for anyone who puts their hand out. No, it was all to prop you up. I’d imagine he told you otherwise when it came to that too.”
She’s right. Not that I’m about to admit it.
“So here’s what we’re going to do,” she announces, hands clasped together over the top of her walking stick. “You’re going to take what you’ve been given and go back to California where you belong. The contract you signed will ensure you’re well recompensed for your trouble. You will not contact my grandson ever again.”
Beneath the desk, my hands are shaking. “And if I don’t?”
“Why would you want to stay? He’s lied to you and controlled you from the first moment you met. He won’t change, because it’s in his blood. It’s all he knows.”
I glare at her and repeat myself through gritted teeth. “And if I don’t?”
“You seem to care for him, despite knowing the truth. Hardly a surprise. That’s the point of control, after all. That’s why he does it. Why we all do.” She smiles grimly. “So let’s test that affection, shall we?”
“What are you going to do, Catherine?”
“First, I’ll ensure he’s voted off the board of Elliot Corp. I love my grandson, but I won’t tolerate disloyalty or any further poor choices from him at this time.” Her rheumy gaze narrows. “Secondly, his new enterprise, this chain of boutique hotels he’s so keen on establishing. I’ll ensure he’s outbid every time.”
I snort. She has a fucked-up way of looking at the world. Of loving people.
“Thirdly, he’ll no longer be welcome in Denver society if you’re by his side. Do not underestimate my influence here.”
“You don’t know him at all,” I whisper.
“What? What did you say?”
“I said, you don’t know your grandson at all.” I sit back in the seat, forcing myself to relax. “He walked away from the company, the money, the power, all of it…and that scares the shit out of you, doesn’t it?”
“Watch your language,” she hisses.
“Why is it people like you always call for civility and niceness while behaving like absolute assholes? It’s phenomenal.” I shake my head. “Get out, Catherine. Go back to your castle and count your money. No wonder the only people who stand at your side have to be paid to be there.”
Slowly, she rises to her feet. “He will tire of your vulgarity and scheming. Mark my words.”
“Scheming? Me?” I laugh. “Wow.”
“You are nothing but a leech to be broken beneath my foot.”
I look to heaven, but there’s no help forthcoming. Not much of a surprise. “‘Are the shades of Pemberley to be thus polluted?’ Blah, blah, blah.”
She screws up her wrinkled face. “What?”
“Let me summarize.” I get to my feet and march to the door, throwing it open. “Get the fuck out!”
“Beloved, why are you sitting in the dark?”
A fitting metaphor for my state of being. I’m in the chair at the desk where I’ve been for hours. It’s not night yet. Not quite. Through